On the subject of woodland gardens, I went and had drinks last night in the bar of the moment ‘bar with no name’ 69 Colebrook row. It is uber fashionable and super hard to get into but i have to say, the staff were charming, and we had impeccable service. We managed to get a table for an hour (!)  & seated right next to a proper  and talented handsome celeb ( I don’t tell, but no tales) and drank delicious woodland infused martini’s and pollen based honey cocktails in pretty antique coupes. Yummy yummy.

pretty & delicate delicious drinks at the bar with no name

Highlights are the infamous skull and the butterfly room.

Damien Hirst butterfly art

What is tenuously ironic about for the love of god is that Hirst often gets it in the neck over this piece ( geddit?). He’s been called: a charlatan, very lucky, and marketer, most probably by the same folk who always write “but is it art?” on the slips of paper you get to scribble on and pin up at the end of The Turner Prize. 2/5 people always write “but is it art?”. They leave muttering “I could do that?”. What gives?

The Guardian’s art critic, Adrian Searle,  described this work as  ”a memento mori for a reputation“. Ouff!

I’ll tell you what I thought. I thought it was amazers. The skull is in a separate blacked out room heavily guarded by security men in black. You must 1st walk through a corridor with no light, which in itself is terribly disorientating and then enter where the skull is incased in a prism box, spot lit. At the right angle you look upon not just one  platinum, diamond encrusted skull – but infinite, viewed from the back you can see the front and vice versa and if there is anyone else there with you on the other-side of the box peering in, their head appears severed. How cool, like – waaay cool.

For the love of god: Damien Hirst: 2007. Platinum cast of a human skull encrusted with 8,601 diamonds,

Then there’s the butterfly paintings – which are just beautiful. That is all. It’s not all at all if you know what I mean? They are so beautiful to me that I felt a true sense of Walter Benjamin’s concept of aura. I’m afraid I went woo woo over them. To get to this room, you can walk through a room of live butterflies and stay in the lovely tropical plant filled room with giant neon winged magic creatures flitting around you for a few minutes. It was so uplifting a complete stranger smiled at me and said “this is wonderful”. That’s right, never mind dead cow heads and breeding flies or pharmacy and fag butt installations, shock incident: stranger smiles and talks to stranger in London.

Victorian cats and tattoos to be precise. The picture above comes from a late 19th Century edition of Girls Own magazine. The cat has such a nice face.

Big news! I’m a little bit closer to getting my new tattoo. The artist has been identified Guen Douglas, and this morning I went and had a consultation with her which was  exciting. Now I’ve paid the deposit and have a date booked. All systems go and watch this space!

I actually found a good use for Pinterest too – as I was able to put together a kind of mood board for the artist.

I love the art work by Louis Wain and I’m also really inspired by the colours and delicay of  traditional victorian cat illustrations. Miu Miu and her constant companionship throughout the ordeal that is ‘thesis writing’ is of course my main inspiration, but since moving into Maison Peacock and adopting and restoring the Garden of Earthly Delights I’ve become seriously into aspects of The Victorian aesthetic.

This is a ridiculously cute photo. It just is. If you don’t think so you have a black heart and a dusty soul.

During my pioneer voyage into Pinterest I pinned this piccie and it’s gone nuts. 32 likes and 117 re-pins in, like, 10 days or something. What gives? What is it about visual representations of human’s best friend? Why as a species do we humans particularly love baby animals? Any anthropologists out there specializing in this can you explain? There has to be someone somewhere doing a fully funded AHRC thesis on this phenomena.

Nevertheless, I’ve experienced a few professional occasions recently where I’ve had to suit up. The thing is, until the other day I only owned 3 suits, one of which my father bought for me for my undergraduate graduation somewhen in the 1990s. Though it is beautifully cut with a Mandarin collar and lasted the test of time, I’ve defied normal biology by continuing to grow since my 20s, as the legs on the trousers graze my ankles in a way Frank Spencer could envy. I don’t remember it fitting that way back then? The other suit is pink tweed faux Chanel, more suitable for tea at The Savoy or Dorchester, which it’s done in it’s time. The last, if i may say so myself is too sexy to be taken seriously. Think high split pencil skirt and low cut halter waist-coat.

I’ve been a fan of Whistles clothing for a long time. The brand is great for my age range. Always on trend and very wearable, without being too-too edgy. A salut to whoever does the buying. My lovely father, who treated me to my 1st suit, also treated me to a new one, and it’s from Whistles. It’s called Mia: tailored jacket & Mia: tailored trousers Whistles always do great blazer jackets and tailored trousers. It’s ace as separates and aside from wearing it to the  meetings I’ve had lately, I’ve worn the blazer jacket with skinny jeans loads and the trousers with various.

with skinny jeans & Alexander McQueen T-shirt. Belt is also from Whistles

dig this belt

My friend popped over for a cuppa when I was wearing the trouser/sweat-shirt ensemble below and remarked on the jodhpur shape. “Like Chris Eubanks”. They’re now known as the Chris Eubanks trousers. In reality the trousers are more of a cigarette cut, I think it’s they way I’m standing in the sky-scraper shoes. Anyhow, they’re centre front pleats and hang real nice with flat shoes.

trousers with Warehouse sweat-shirt

I’ve already highlighted the new gold ankle boots, my major purchase for this season. Gosh, they cheer me up so much. Touching base on fairy tale, disco, and a little bit pantomime – they go with EVERYTHING. BTW the dress is by twenty8twelve. It’s known in my close circles as “the powerful dress” as when ever I wear it, it’s always a good night. It’s a total hero.

Back to American Apparel. In my defense I don’t own any of their disco leggins or spangly hot pants. If I were 20 I definitely would and I’d wear the satin hot pants daily, but I’m not and  one’s gots to draw the line somewhere. Never the less, I am still a big fan of their unisex brightly coloured hoodies, socks, undies and long sleeved basics.

Garmets are well made, sweat shop free and wash well.  Plus, I discovered this morning that they do a canine range. Not that I dress Cuba unless it’s super cold (small dogs do require an extra layer when it gets damp and frosty in the mornings), but if I did he would probably wear American Apparel.

American Apparel are an interesting brand I’ve been thinking quite a bit about in my academic writing lately.

De-fetishisation explores how contemporary brands make use of public attitudes towards consumption by making their labour practices explicit in what Littler and Moor (2008) argue in a case study about American Apparel is a fetish for de-fetishisation[1]. By this they mean that if the fetishism of commodities involves obscuring labour practices, de-fetishisation is a contemporary re-working where labour practice are overtly communicated and built into the brand experience. One way this is achieved is by focusing on the biographies of employees or sharing information to consumers about where materials are sourced from and how products are made, to reassure consumers that products are produced ethically and responsibly. You can take a virtual tour of the factory  and see exactly what is going on   in each room by clicking on the window. Kinda cool.

This is a vortex, the closest visual representation of what it feels like to be doing a PhD

A colleague posted this on my facebook page today. Love it! So true.

“There’s no laughter like postgraduate laughter, we agree. There’s nothing as dark. Nothing as knowing. It’s death-row laughter, we agree. It’s the laughter of those condemned to death. Because they are condemned to death, the postgraduates. Exposed to the greatest of thoughts, the greatest of books, they are condemned to a life without meaning, without succour, to a life of shit in a world of shit…”

— from Spurious.

Did you know if you put ‘I hate my thesis’ into Google you get about 2,610,000 results ( in 0.20 seconds)?

Personal favourites out there are a blog that’s called ‘I hate my thesis’ authored by ‘Miserable Grad Student’ I like the author’s humour and inyourfacethisisgradstufftisshit tone. Dear Miserable Grad Student you’ve savoir faire in my book. Then there’s the insightful pretty hard damnit and finally the I hate my dissertation king of procrastination song on youtube. To the artist : I salute you! But, it’s the more recent ‘vitriolic rant’ by Anna that resonates with the most with me right now. She says,

I was actually up for half the night last night worrying [...]. I think it’s coming from the twin realisations that (a) I want to write things that someone, ANYONE outside academia may want to read; and (b) my thesis does not fall into this category.

I completely concur. Some days I feel like this guy standing on a precipice all alone.

Boo hoo.

On a more serious note here is a v interesting and more recent (2011) article ’My grief lies all within” — PhD students, depression & attrition’  by Melonie Fullick. The piece makes many salient points, but when the author talks about a thick wall of silence built around the issue of depression and post-grad study, it becomes clear what a serious yet under discussed issue it is.

1st off it is one thing to feel down, fed up or a bit on your own, but if you’re at the stage where you don’t want to get out of bed, keep crying, insomnia, or you feel panic and so on, then you should go and see your GP or make an appointment to see your counselor service at uni if you have one. You may be suffering from depression proper. In which case, there is nothing to be a shamed of in speaking up and getting some help. You deserve to be looked after and to look after your self. Remember a PhD is really really hard! That’s one of the reasons why not many people have Dr before their name. You are doing something v tough that is little understood and the process of writing a thesis takes it toll mentally on people in different ways.